The Damage In Your Heart
by SignedXoxoxoNelly
Summary: A bargaining chip for the cooperation of a dead man, that is what she has been reduced to. Yet, no matter how many times she tells Amanda Waller that Oliver is dead, the woman adamantly refuses and instead imprisons Felicity on Lian Yu. Amidst all this, Oliver Queen learns just how fragile the mind really is by facing the true Demon behind Ra's al Ghul's sanity. Olicity post-3x09.
1. Don't Speak

**Title: **The Damage In Your Heart

**Genre:** Adventure, Romance, Friendship

**Rating: **T

**Character(s):** Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen, John Diggle, Roy Harper, Malcolm Merlyn, Thea Queen, Amanda Waller, Ra's al Ghul, Nyssa al Ghul, Slade Wilson

**Summary: **A bargaining chip for the cooperation of a dead man, that is what she has been reduced to. yet, no matter how many times she tells Amanda Waller that Oliver is dead, the woman adamantly refuses and instead imprisons Felicity on Lian Yu. Amidst all this, Oliver Queen learns just how fragile the mind really is by facing the true Demon behind Ra's al Ghul's sanity.

**A/N:** I wanted to put this new fic out before 3x10 airs, so here it is, hot off the presses. I rewrote this chapter so many times it's not even funny, but somehow writing from Malcolm's perspective just seemed to flow better than anyone else. So I went with it. This is another crazy, what-if theory of where things go after 3x09, so, spoilers abound, beware! There will be more Felicity in the next chapter, I promise.

I hope you enjoy it!

xoxoNelly

**Note:** _Italics_ = flashback

**Disclaimer**\- _I do not own any characters or entities recognized from the TV show Arrow or the DC Comics, nor am I making any sort of profit off of this writing. I do not own the lyrics used either, they belong to No Doubt. _

* * *

**The Damage In Your Heart**

**Chapter 1: Don't Speak**

* * *

_You and me, I can see us dying_

_are we?_

* * *

Malcolm Merlyn liked to think of himself as a fairly intelligent man. More resourceful than most with a sense of self-preservation that served him well, and instinct that had kept him alive when all odds seemed stacked against him, when death was certain he seemed to cheat it and come out of it all the better.

He was a winner, who was not afraid to cheat to achieve his greatest accomplishments. His twisted sense of right or wrong could easily be justified by him, he was good at shaping words to better serve his argument, he could trick others into doing what he said by framing words and questions in ways that appealed to them when really they only appealed to his goals and aspirations.

He had brought a city to it's knees to make up for its failings, intent on rebuilding it.

Ultimately, though he seemed to come out of the ordeal a failure, he had been successful.

Malcolm Merlyn had both lost and gained a child in that earthquake, so it was not a failure on his part even though the world had lost Tommy.

Now, as his only daughter stared back at him with a glint in her eyes that he recognized as one of his own creation he felt quietly humbled by his own skill. He had crafted this woman, the Thea he had met months before, during the siege of the city was a scared, fragile and broken girl who was afraid of being abandoned and torn apart by lies and half-truths.

He had only ever been honest with her since he rescued her at the train station.

That didn't mean he had been honest with her about things that happened before that night.

But that was neither here nor there.

"I need a favor, father." She said, head tilting slightly, her short hair falling out of her hazel eyes.

"If it is within my power, you know I will do whatever I can," he replied, spreading his hands wide as he spoke, taking a step toward her as the city sprawled beneath them.

A sharp wind ruffled Thea's hair as she stood across from her father on the rooftop.

"I don't think Oliver is backpacking through Europe again." She spoke the words slowly as her eyes narrowed, "something's wrong, and I don't know how to get into contact with him."

"I don't hear a favor. I hear hunches and theories."

"I need you to find him for me."

Malcolm lifted his brows as she spoke the words quickly, "you want me to find out where Oliver has gallivanted off to this time?"

"I don't think he's gallivanting anywhere. There's something he's not telling me. Just find him."

Malcolm settled his lips into a hard line and nodded, "I will try my best, Thea."

"Good," she replied with a nod before she turned and walked away, heading for the doors to the stairwell that would lead her back down to her loft.

Malcolm remained on the rooftop, staring out at the city sprawled below him, remembering his conversation with Oliver's partners the week before.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"_Oliver Queen is dead," Merlyn's gaze was unflinching as he took in the team before him, his hands sliding into the pockets of his coat._

_Diggle's brows pulled together, his chest tightening as Roy's jaw set and shoulders pulled up tensely. Felicity, however, remained still, her eyes focused intensely on Malcolm Merlyn._

_She shook her head once, ponytail swinging, "he isn't dead." _

_Malcolm's head tilted slightly, expression telling her he thought different. _

"_He is not dead." She repeated, face determined. _

"_Test the blood on the sword, Ms. Smoak, you'll find it is Oliver's. He lost to Ra's al Ghul, and the only way you escape Ra's al Ghul is by death."_

"_Yet you're alive." Felicity countered, staring at the blue-eyed man before her. _

_Merlyn smirked, "I think it is fair to say Oliver and I are not the same type of men." _

"_No, he's a hero." _

_Malcolm's smirk widened into an impressed smile, "think of me what you will, Ms. Smoak. I just came to break the news so you could stop waiting for Oliver to return." _

_There was a lengthy pause where Felicity's gaze dropped to the green leather suit hanging in its case and she bit down on her lip._

"_Despite our differences, I grieve for Oliver too. I did not want him to die."_

_Felicity's shoulder blades pulled together at the man's words, her eyes shutting for a brief moment before opening and fixing on Malcolm, eyes flashing dangerously, "leave." _

**.**

**.**

**.**

He had been to the mountaintop where Ra's al Ghul had slain Oliver Queen and found only the murder weapon there. No body.

In an effort to keep expectations low, he had told Oliver's team the worst case scenario, that Oliver was truly dead.

"_He is not dead." _

Felicity was a radical in his carefully calculated equation that he had not expected, but she was a variable he had to consider now. It was obvious her importance had escalated since the Undertaking, but when he had tried to unearth information on the woman past what can be found in online databases and records, he seemed to come up empty. Thea had only met the woman a handful of times and only for short moments—a dead end. His other leads were just as dismal. Felicity Smoak was quite the underestimated and mysterious woman.

Malcolm sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest, knowing a trip to Tibet was in order once more. Death had been the easiest explanation for what had happened to Oliver. There was a chance that Oliver was alive but Malcolm did not know for certain. It was more probable that he was dead.

However, he did know that in the life he lead, it was hard to make the dead stay dead when there were countless ways to keep them alive.

Maybe Oliver Queen was with Tommy.

* * *

_Don't speak_

_I know just what you're saying _

_So please stop explaining _

_Don't tell me cause it hurts_

* * *

_Tell me what you think! Leave a review? xo_


	2. The Show Must Go On

**Title: **The Damage In Your Heart

**Genre: **Adventure, Romance, Friendship

**Rating: **T

**Characters: **Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen, John Diggle, Roy Harper, Malcolm Merlyn, Thea Queen, Amanda Waller, Ra's al Ghul, Nyssa al Ghul, Slade Wilson

**Summary:** A bargaining chip for the cooperation of a dead man, that is what she has been reduced to. Yet, no matter how many times she tells Amanda Waller that Oliver is dead, the woman adamantly refuses and instead imprisons her on Lian Yu. Amidst all this, Oliver Queen learns just how fragile the mind really is by facing the true Demon behind Ra's al Ghul's sanity.

**A/N:** I'm not going to lie, The Show Must Go On by Queen kind of matches this fic perfectly (and the current state of the show too). And, as of 3x10 airing last night, this fic is officially AU, I'm diverging from canon with this chapter. I still haven't decided if my plot and the canon plot will converge in the future, but we'll see. Thank you to those who reviewed, followed and favorited! I appreciate it greatly!

xoxoNelly

**Disclaimer: **I don't own it.

* * *

**The Damage In Your Heart**

**Chapter 2: The Show Must Go On**

* * *

_Outside the dawn is breaking _

_But inside the dark I'm aching to be free_

_The show must go on _

_The show must go on_

* * *

Felicity eyed her reflection in the bathroom mirror as the glare of the clock on her cell phone shone at her in the dimly lit room. It was early, just before six in the morning, but for the past week sleep had been elusive and it's evidence was clearly defined beneath her eyes and along her cheeks. She was tired, exhausted, but no matter how hard she endeavored to obtain of few hours of rest she would lie awake, her mind taking over and making unconsciousness unobtainable.

She sighed and flicked on the lights, letting her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness in the narrow room. Massaging her temples she closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting her breathing settle into a steady rhythm before setting about her daily routine.

Ignoring the slight tremor in her finger tips she turned on the tap and washed the insomnia from her face, patting her skin dry with a hand towel before moving on. She squeezed moisturizer onto her fingertips, spreading the cream below her eyes, down her cheeks, over her chin and along her forehead until it had sunk beneath the surface layer.

She capped her tube of moisturizer and moved on, picking up her powder brush and swirling it into her foundation before dabbing the powder over the planes of her face. Setting the brush down she let her fingers trail over the counter top until she reached her concealer. With a heavy sigh she began to smooth the concealer beneath her eyes, covering up the evidence of her long nights awake.

Leaning back, she studied herself once more, deciding she did look better with the make up on—less tired, more weary.

She bit down on her lip to hold back the sudden onslaught of tears that welled up inside of her.

It happened a lot—the sudden need to cry.

But, she couldn't cry because she had just pained on her mask and she refused to go through the process all over again.

Every morning it was the same, she rose from bed—whether sleep or wakefulness—and began the beauty routine she had been maintaining for years, ever since Cooper had died and she had emerged as the new Felicity Smoak.

She fixed her make up to near perfection, slicked her hair back into her professional pony tail and then slid into a chic dress or blouse and pant combo and she made herself a cup of coffee to drink while she caught a few minutes of the news from her TV or her tablet. Then she left for work, driving in her Mini Cooper, obeying every traffic law to the T in some sort of repentance for all of the internet crimes she committed during her night job.

However, this routine had taken on a new meaning after Malcolm Merlyn's visit to Team Arrow. Suddenly, this routine was the only thing holding Felicity together, it was the only part of herself she recognized any more, it was the only reason she was able to function in a world without Oliver Queen.

Sure, her make up and bright dresses were not equivalent to Oliver's Arrow suit, but it was her own version. It was her armor and it was how she was able to brave the world outside of her apartment, the world outside of the foundry.

With every swipe of her foundation brush she buried her grief beneath finely ground powder. With the glide of her eyeliner she covered her sorrow and her remorse. With every slide of her lipstick across her mouth she concealed her guilt and regret. And when she was done, she slightly resembled the woman she was before.

Before Ra's al Ghul, before Malcolm Merlyn's condemning words, before Oliver's death.

She was living in the after now, and after where the foundry's lights remained dim and her face was a mask and her team was in shambles.

She was tired, but her mask was on and she needed to face the day as bravely as she could.

She glanced down at the clock, _6:30_. Coffee, and then she'd drive to Palmer Technologies and begin her workday.

* * *

Diggle and Roy were silent as they moved about the foundry, neither speaking.

Tension was too light of a term to describe the air crackling between the two men.

Roy had always had issues with authority, yet he rarely ever questioned Oliver. Yet, that respect had not carried over when Diggle had taken charge of the team in Oliver's absence.

Diggle understood what the younger man was going through, he had lost his father figure, someone he looked up to, someone who had changed and saved his life. Diggle could sympathize with Roy, he'd gone through it before with his brother and now, again with Oliver.

But Roy did not want his sympathy, nor did he want his guidance. He wanted to fly head-first into dangerous situations without thinking plans through. He wanted to take justice further into his own hands and punish criminals with fists and blood rather than law and bars.

The whole situation was frustrating, but Diggle tried to keep it all under wraps. He didn't mention his annoyance with Roy to Felicity, because she had enough on her plate. She grieved silently, away from the team, because she was supposed to be their hope and their glue.

Diggle was supposed to be the voice of reason, and he was trying—he was trying damn hard, but all of his words went in one ear and out the other because grief clouded one's sense of judgment. He was tired of listening to himself even. He wished he could find Ra's al Ghul and put a bullet in him for tearing apart his team—his family.

But he couldn't do that. He couldn't abandon Roy, Felicity and Laurel in order to go on a suicidal revenge mission. It would only make things worse.

So he settled for sharpening arrowheads in the quiet foundry as Roy battled with one of the practice dummies.

The door to the foundry opening shocked Diggle out of his thoughts and he glanced at the clock—_2:32_. It was much too early for Felicity to be entering the foundry.

But it wasn't Felicity, it was Laurel.

Realization hit Diggle suddenly, he would have to deliver the news of Oliver's death to the oldest Lance daughter.

He got to his feet, setting down the arrow he had been holding and he approached Laurel, his eyes darting over to Roy, who had immediately gone back to his one-side spar with the dummy once he realized it was only Laurel.

"Laurel."

The woman came to a stop in front of him, her eyes darting around the foundry and Diggle could only assume she was looking for Oliver. Her searching would turn up empty, and once it did, her eyes fell on Diggle.

"Where is Oliver?"

Diggle sighed before crossing his arms over his chest, "he left to face Ra's al Ghul a week ago. We haven't heard from him since."

"What?" Laurel's eyes were sharp yet bereft as the words filtered through her mind. Her jaw quivered.

"Merlyn came to us, told us Oliver was dead."

Her mouth opened to speak but no sound came out, and then without another word she turned and walked up the steps of the foundry. She paused at the door, her shaking hand on the handle. She took a deep breath, her jaw setting and then she left.

Diggle sighed, running a hand over his head before returning to his seat and picking up the arrow he had been sharpening, continuing his menial task.

They would wait for Felicity to come to the foundry, and then they would continue their mission without Oliver. Diggle would keep an eye on Laurel for the next few days. He would mention that Laurel knew to Felicity. And then they would move on.

He hoped.

* * *

Laurel had never been one to hide from confrontation, and so when Ted told her they needed to slow down on her training she immediately rose to face him. All the emotions she had been trying to keep locked up were suddenly threatening to spill out.

"You're joking right? I'm doing everything you've asked, I've gotten stronger, I've gotten faster."

"But have you gotten smarter, Laurel? You're still running into things fist first without thinking. Your punches mean nothing if you don't have a reason behind them." Ted turned to face her, meeting her challenging gaze unafraid of the anger swirling beneath her gaze.

"I have a reason." She argued, crossing her arms over her chest, her breathing labored—whether from their sparring or from the emotions warring inside her chest, she could not tell.

"To avenge your sister? That's not what I'm talking about Laurel. You fight all with emotion, not intellect. You need to think things through before you attack, or you'll be on the losing side."

"I think you're just trying to find a reason to stop training me." She shot back defensively, knowing her words weren't true, but needing to lash out, to attack, to make someone else hurt instead of herself.

"No, I'm trying to find a way to get you to see that you're going to get yourself killed out there if you fight like this," he threw his hands up, turning away from her, running his hands over his head before settling them on his waist. "You're not ready yet, Laurel."

"I am ready, Ted. The Arrow hasn't been seen in a week and already the city is falling to pieces. I need to be out there. This city can use more than one hero."

"I don't think you realize how serious this is, Laurel. This isn't a game. Your life will be at stake every moment you're out there, the lives of other people will be at stake too. And I'm not sure I can trust you with the lives of others yet."

"Good thing I'm not waiting on your permission," she said before turning on her heel and leaving the Wildcat Gym.

Ted Grant sighed as he watched her go, knowing nothing he would say could stop her.

.

.

.

She was doing fine—a man with a crowbar was breaking into a pawn shop on the east side of the Glades. She was confident on handling it on her own, knocking the crowbar from the man's hands and getting in a few good hits while he was still stunned.

Things had taken a turn for the worst when the man suddenly showed his true colors, exchanging blows with Laurel, proving he was better trained than she had originally thought. He wasn't just some street thug with no fighting experience, he knew what he was doing in hand-to-hand combat.

An elbow into her ribcage sent her stumbling back, coughing, but she needed to be back on the offensive quickly and ignored the flaring pain in her midsection as she came at the man again, the leather of her jacket pulling tightly across her shoulders.

She stopped short when the man turned and pulled a gun on her, her eyes widened behind her black mask as he pulled the trigger.

* * *

_Inside my heart is breaking _

_My make-up may be flaking _

_But my smile still stays on_

_The show must go on_

* * *

_Leave a review? I love hearing from you! xo_


	3. Move Along

**Title: **The Damage In Your Heart

**Genre: **Adventure, Romance, Friendship

**Rating: **T

**Characters: **Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen, John Diggle, Roy Harper, Malcolm Merlyn, Thea Queen, Amanda Waller, Ra's al Ghul, Nyssa al Ghul, Slade Wilson

**Summary:** A bargaining chip for the cooperation of a dead man, that is what she has been reduced to. Yet, no matter how many times she tells Amanda Waller that Oliver is dead, the woman adamantly refuses and instead imprisons her on Lian Yu. Amidst all this, Oliver Queen learns just how fragile the mind really is by facing the true Demon behind Ra's al Ghul's sanity.

**A/N:** I'm not going to lie, Laurel is starting to grow on me. She's still not anywhere close to being my favorite character on the show, but I don't cringe when she comes on screen anymore. Anyways, I really like the ending scene of this chapter, but that's just me. I hope you all enjoy it as well! Thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted I greatly appreciate all the support (I'd love to hear from more of you ;P) Also, be looking out for a two-shot from me soon, titled Come As You Are (As You Were)!

xoxoNelly

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own it.

* * *

**The Damage In Your Heart**

**Chapter 3: Move Along**

* * *

_When all you got to keep is strong _

_Move along, move along like I know ya do _

_And even when your hope is gone_

_Move along, move along just to make it through_

* * *

Normally, Felicity wasn't one to hide from confrontation. Usually, she had no issues with voicing her opinions or making her dislike of a situation known.

But watching a confrontation between two of her closest friends was something she desperately wished she could hide from. She didn't want to witness the foundation of her team crumble into oblivion. The thought of losing what little she had left of Oliver made her heart constrict painfully.

Roy turned, throwing his bow onto the metal table and glared at Diggle, who stood at the base of the staircase, watching the younger man.

"What you did tonight was completely reckless Roy," Diggle's voice was close to a yell and Roy just scoffed.

"He deserved it."

"You don't get to decide that Roy. That's not how this team operates." Diggle walked across the foundry's floor and stopped just a few feet in front of Roy, looking intimidating and frustrated.

"It used to." Roy's words were low, a grumble beneath his breath.

Diggle's bristled as he caught the words, "things changed. Oliver realized that wasn't how justice worked, and I agree with him, we can only take the law into our hands so much before we cross a line."

"Oliver's not here anymore, so why should we follow his rules." Roy's blue eyes were blazing with pain and betrayal and anger. He wanted to get even, to unleash his hurt and anger on someone—anyone at this point.

Felicity gasped in pain at Roy's words—effectively gaining the attention of both men. Roy and Diggle both whipped around to look at the blond, Roy's glare immediately softening into a look of horror and regret.

"Felicity, I—," he moved to apologize but she cut him off.

"Don't bother," she said holding her hand up to the young man who visibly deflated at her clipped tone. She faced Roy after a moment and sighed, "look Roy, I understand we're all...grieving in our own ways, but beating the life out of someone isn't going to fix things. It won't bring Oliver back, it will only dishonor his memory. So I suggest you find a different way to cope."

"Cope? Is that what you've been doing?" Roy's anger was quickly renewed as he moved around the med table to come to stand directly in front of Felicity.

Diggle took a step closer, ready to step between the two if things got too heated, but Felicity shot him a glance that told him to stay out of it and he listened, for the time being.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're in denial Felicity. You think he's still alive." Roy threw his hand out at her, his voice a heavy accusation.

"He might be." She replied, gritting her teeth, fighting back the emotions and the sudden tears.

"_Might_, Felicity. He might also be six feet under somewhere in Tibet. He _probably_ is. You need to accept that."

"I refuse to accept that Oliver is dead." And there was the lie she kept telling herself. She didn't know why she kept repeating it, over and over, when she didn't even halfway believe it. Truly, she was only saying it because she was the member of the team who was supposed to stay positive. If anyone was supposed to hold out hope for Oliver to be alive, it was her.

And it crushed her to know, that in her heart, she really thought he was dead.

However, out loud, she never voiced that opinion. She just adamantly repeated that Oliver was not dead, putting as much feeling as she could into it—and they all believed her.

"Why? Because you have no idea how you'll survive without Oliver here to protect you? Or is it because if Oliver's dead you know all that you've been doing here is for nothing, because let's face it, Felicity, the only reason you're still a part of the team is because you're in love with Oliver."

Diggle's twitched, shifting his weight on his feet, feeling Roy had gone too far.

Felicity looked stricken, "you know that's not true Roy. You and Diggle are like family to me. You're all I have. Just because Oliver is gone doesn't mean I will leave you too."

Suddenly, it clicked in her head why Roy was acting the way he was.

So many loved ones had abandoned Roy throughout his short life—family, friends, even Thea did in a way. And now, just when he'd started to put together a makeshift family once again he had lost his father figure. He was afraid of losing Felicity and Diggle too, but he was also angry that he had gotten close to someone again just to be left and now his self-preserving instinct was telling him to cut all ties so that he wouldn't be hurt again when he was abandoned by Felicity and Diggle.

"Digg and I are not going anywhere, Roy." She reached out and took his head—shocking Roy to the core, "we're a team, we're a family."

His expression darkened just before he spoke, "I don't know if I want to be a part of this family any more."

Roy held her eyes for a moment until Felicity sighed and let go of his hand. "I won't force you to stay here, Roy. It's always your decision whether you stay or go. But just know that Diggle and I will be here, we are not giving up on Oliver's mission, or Starling City. I've committed myself to this and I'm not taking back my promise now."

She stepped back and lifted her blue eyes to meet his, "take some time to figure things out. If you need to talk, I'll be here, Digg will be here."

Roy nodded and turned away, unzipping his Arsenal jacket.

Felicity turned from Roy and Diggle walked across the foundry floor to come to her side.

"You okay?" He asked softly. She nodded, swallowing thickly past her tears.

"He just doesn't want to be hurt again if he loses one of us." She whispered softly to Diggle.

"I know," Diggle said back just as softly, so Roy wouldn't overhear them.

"What are we going to do, Digg?" She asked, fingers rubbing against her forehead.

"We're going to continue Oliver's mission, just like you said. We're going to be here every night, saving this city by defeating one bad guy at a time. If Oliver is alive, he will find his way back to us."

"I hope so."

-x-x-x-

"Diggle, there's an alert on a robbery, a pawn shop on 18th street. Police are fifteen minutes out, you could be there in four."

"On it," Diggle responded as he revved up Oliver's bike and took off. He had been patrolling for most of the night on his own after Roy had stormed out of the foundry. It was late, later than he normally patrolled but every cell inside of his body was too restless for him to return home just yet.

He knew Felicity appreciated having something to set her mind to as well, or else she'd be forced to replay her conversation with Roy over and over again in her head. If she was going to be an insomniac, she might as well be doing something productive with her time.

Pulling up in front of the pawn shop, Diggle noticed a shattered front window, a crow bar lying several feet away. Some items seemed to be missing from the front window display of the shop, but otherwise, it appeared whoever had robbed the place was now gone. He moved to report his findings to Felicity but stopped short.

Ragged coughing from the narrow alleyway next to the pawn shop drew Diggle's attention. Pulling his gun from it's holster, he slowly moved around the corner of the building.

"Shit," he muttered, catching Felicity's attention over the comms.

"What is it?" She asked, a tinge of worry in her voice.

"It's Laurel, she's injured," he said as he tucked his gun away and dropped down to a knee beside the woman. She turned her head to look up at him and he immediately went into the mind frame of a soldier.

"Where are you hurt?" He asked.

"Gunshot, right shoulder," she croaked softly.

Diggle nodded, probing the wound and sitting her up to examine the back of her shoulder. "The bullet went straight through."

"Bring her back to the foundry, Digg." Felicity's voice spoke into his ear, a voice that was surprisingly level.

"On our way."

-x-x-x-x-

"Go home, Diggle. There's nothing more you can do, it's late and Lyla will probably begin to worry." Felicity said, placing her hand on Diggle's shoulder.

He turned his head away from where he had been staring at Laurel's unconscious body in his silent vigil. "You sure?"

Felicity nodded, "I'll stay here tonight, make sure she's stable. And I'll get her home in the morning."

"Okay," he acquiesced, sliding off the stool and collecting his jacket. As he ascended the stairs out of the foundry he called over his shoulder, "call me if you need anything."

He caught Felicity's wave that she sent over her shoulder as she sat back down at her desk and turned the chair so she was facing the table where Laurel lay, and then he was gone.

-x-x-x-

"How did I get here?"

The sudden sound of a voice caused Felicity to jump and drop her tablet onto the concrete below her.

"Frack!" She yelped before hastily stooping over to pick up the tablet and setting it down gently on her desk before rushing over to Laurel, who was sitting up on the metal table, eyes squinted in pain.

"Diggle found you, brought you here. How are you feeling?" Felicity asked, her hand flitting nervously in the air above Laurel's arm, not sure if touching the woman would be appreciated.

Laurel slid her eyes to Felicity, "I was shot."

"Yep. I'm pretty good at stitches, I've had a lot of practice," Felicity stopped short at the expression on Laurel's face.

"Um, thank you, I guess." Laurel said, dropping her gaze to the floor. "What time is it?"

"Just after seven am." Felicity replied, she had called into work stating she would be talking the first half the day off. She left out the part where she would be looking after an amateur vigilante who got a little more bang for her buck than expected the night before.

"Shit, I have work."

"Call in sick. You're in no shape to work right now."

"I'm sorry, but I can't just call in sick. I'm the assistant DA."

"You're suffering from a blood loss and the embarrassment of making a huge mistake." Felicity countered and the brunette woman just stared at her, shocked at her vehement words.

"Look, you need to rest. Trust me, I've seen people in your position several times before, heck, I've even been in your shoes—not that I would fit into your shoes, because you look like you have really small feet and my feet just are not very...3.2.1." Felicity stopped and took a deep breath, rubbing her fingers along her eyebrows before opening her eyes again and fixing her gaze on Laurel.

"You went into that robbery last night with a half-baked idea, and you got seriously injured. I'm not letting you leave this foundry just so you can go make the same mistake again and get killed this time."

But, she wasn't finished, "plus, what would you even say to your boss when you pull your stitches and start bleeding onto your finely pressed blazer? It won't take long for the DA to put two and two together if you're not careful."

Laurel ground her teeth together as she looked away from Felicity, her hands gripping the edge of the table on either side of her legs.

"Laurel," Felicity let out a sigh before continuing, "if there is one thing that I've learned from Oliver and all of...this," she motioned with her hands to the foundry around her, "it's that you can't live the vigilante lifestyle halfway."

Laurel's eyes narrowed at Felicity, but she stayed silent, listening.

"Oliver tried for years to live half his life as Ollie, irresponsible playboy or Oliver Queen, irresponsible CEO and the other half of his life as the Hood, an avenging murderer with a warped sense of justice. He spent all of his time crafting these two separate entities that were housed in one mind and one body and it's not healthy. I mean, there are diagnosable disorders based off that kind of thing—not that Oliver is crazy, 'cause he's not—he's just stubborn, misguided and has a self-sacrificial tendency. But, he hasn't come away from this crusade unscathed, mentally or physically."

"I've seen the scars," Laurel spoke suddenly, neither of the women expecting it.

Felicity felt a sting at the older woman's words as she realized what she was implying, knowing she'd only brought it up as a barb to hurt Felicity, as a defense mechanism to keep a distance between them.

Felicity pressed her lips together as she met Laurel's eyes, "and so have I." She wasn't sure why she said the words, but it felt like a small victory when Laurel winced, "but while I know you've seen the physical ones, I've seen the mental ones that he's been trying to keep sown shut for years now. This life that Oliver's been keeping a secret, it's not an easy secret to keep. It's taxing and emotional and sometimes the risk seems to outweigh the rewards. But he's never given up on it, but he knows he can't be Oliver Queen and carry out this crusade effectively," she paused, her eyes falling on Oliver's suit, still stashed away in its glass case.

She swallowed thickly, brushing her hair out of her face, leaning one hand on the medical table that Laurel was still sitting on, "anyway, what I'm trying to say is, if you're going to do this—this vigilante thing—you need to really commit to it. You need to realize that you can't be just Laurel Lance—gorgeous, generous, humanitarian lawyer—anymore. You may be trying to be a hero, but there's a darkness that comes along with it—even if you don't kill—you still have to do things that the Laurel you used to be wouldn't condone. And you have to understand that the people who you once thought knew you the best, won't know you anymore."

Laurel glanced away from the blond and Felicity set her jaw.

"Trust me, I saw Oliver try to maintain two separate lives but it always backfired in his face because the people who once knew him the best—his mom, Tommy, Thea—suddenly didn't understand a thing that was going through his head, they couldn't sympathize with a single one of his worries, and that took a toll on their relationships. It's a lonely life, and you have to be willing to accept that, or I suggest you stop trying to be a vigilante."

Laurel stared at Felicity for a long moment, her lips pursed, eyes narrowed.

"If it's such a lonely life, how did he have you, and Diggle, and Roy and Sara." Laurel shot back.

Felicity pressed her lips together and glanced up at Laurel, "Sara was a trained assassin, she'd been forced to do countless horrible things because she was bound to it, and she thought she couldn't do anything better, she thought she was incapable of doing good and not being a murderer." She paused for a breath, "Diggle saw atrocities and horrors when he fought overseas. He lived day to day where he didn't know if he was going to wake up the next morning, or be blown to pieces in his sleep. Roy has lived on his own for years, with no support from family and no real friends. He's had to scrounge and fight to sate his basic needs just to survive. He's felt misunderstood and under appreciated his whole life—alone. They all know what it's like to live lonely lives, just like Oliver."

There was something in Laurel's gaze that changed as she stared at the blonde, "and you?"

"Me?" Felicity asked, sounding shocked by the question.

"You're a part of Oliver's life as the Arrow, and you said everyone who's a part of his team knows what it's like to be lonely. How have you been lonely?"

Felicity looked stricken and shocked and uncertain of how to answer. Laurel watched the woman's hand curl into a fist on top of the table before she spoke, "My father abandoned me when I was five years old. My mother worked day and night just so that she could put the most modest meals on the table—that left me a lot of time to be on my own. I was smart—and being smart doesn't mean you're popular—it means people ostracize you, they keep you separate from everyone else because they're intimidated by you, because they know they live in a world where they'll benefit because they're attractive or charming and then don't need to be smart because they have money or connections. I've spent years falling in love with men who can never return my feelings or who have had something tragic happen to them, like death or being struck by lightening. I've spent every day since I moved to Starling City trying to keep everyone at arm's length because letting people in is hard, and frightening and not many people _get_ who I am. But—"

She stopped suddenly, looking shocked at her own confession.

"But Oliver gets you." Laurel's voice was soft as she stared down at the concrete floor.

Felicity swallowed past the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, tears stinging at the backs of her eyes, "yeah, he does." She closed her eyes, willing away the tears, swallowing back the grief, "he did."

"Felicity?" Laurel asked after several moments of silence that each woman used to attempt to compose themselves.

"Hmm?" Felicity glanced up at the brunette.

"I know what it's like to be lonely, too."

"I know. That's why I told you all of this. I know you can do this, you can take up your sister's mantle—but you have to do it right, Laurel. You can't go in haphazardly, you have to plan and strategize and know what you're getting yourself into because I won't be here to patch you up every time. I'll try to be here, but, things are changing in Starling City, things are changing in all of our lives and we can't stop it. So, don't take unnecessary risks and always be prepared. I don't want to see you get hurt because of another stupid mistake or accident that could've been easily prevented."

There were tears in Laurel's eyes when she looked up at Felicity, "why do you care?"

The question is bereft and confused because Laurel honestly couldn't comprehend why this woman cared about her well being. From Laurel's position, she could see how her relationship with Oliver had inhibited Felicity's relationship with Oliver, how it had put her and her team in danger, and cost Felicity countless moments with the man that she loved before he died. She couldn't comprehend why she would care.

"Because, I know two things."

Laurel's brow furrowed at Felicity's words but she waited for her to continue.

"You are not alone," Felicity repeated the words she had once told Oliver, when Slade was ravaging his city and his family, "and if Oliver were here, he would want to help you."

With that, Felicity placed her hand over Laurel's for a brief moment before pushing off the table and moving away. The blond gathered up her coat and purse before heading toward the stairs, "lock up on your way out," she called to the brunette.

Laurel stared after her, finally understanding why Oliver was in love with her.

She made you feel less alone.

* * *

_When everything is wrong, we move along _

_When everything is wrong, we move along _

_Right back what is wrong _

_We move along_

* * *

_xo_


	4. Circadian

****Title:****The Damage In Your Heart

****Genre:****Adventure, Romance, Friendship

****Rating:****T

****Characters:****Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen, John Diggle, Roy Harper, Malcolm Merlyn, Thea Queen, Amanda Waller, Ra's al Ghul, Nyssa al Ghul, Slade Wilson

****Summary:**** A bargaining chip for the cooperation of a dead man, that is what she has been reduced to. Yet, no matter how many times she tells Amanda Waller that Oliver is dead, the woman adamantly refuses and instead imprisons her on Lian Yu. Amidst all this, Oliver Queen learns just how fragile the mind really is by facing the true Demon behind Ra's al Ghul's sanity.

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait on this one. The semester has kicked in full force and it's going to be a hectic one. But, nevertheless, here is chapter four. The plot will be picking up in the next chapter (and you'll get to see where Oliver is too).

**A/N 2: **I am on Tumblr (signedxoxoxonelly) I'm still working on figuring it out, but feel free to follow me there!

Enjoy!

xoxoxoNelly

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters, they belong to DC Comics and the CW. The lyrics used in this chapter are from the song "Circadian" by David Cook, I don't own those either.

* * *

**The Damage In Your Heart**

**Chapter 4: Circadian**

* * *

_Who's to say this history_

_Isn't only just some winner's distant memory _

_You can't escape this drying ink_

_The fall of who we are is getting closer_

_And I'm just holding on until it's over_

* * *

"You look tired."

The comment wasn't meant to be offensive or insulting, it was just one of Ray Palmer's many intellectual observations.

Felicity flicked her eyes up to glance at the man and he just shrugged in response, but his gaze was focused steadily on her, reading her features, noticing the lines of exhaustion she was trying to hide and the redness to her eyes—a dead giveaway to the tears she had shed.

"If you're behind on sleep, you could just play hooky," he suggested before grinning boyishly, "I won't tell the boss," and he winked. Still, even in the face of an obviously off-kilter Felicity he remained optimistic and good humored. Felicity wished she could act that way.

She rolled her eyes, "I'm fine," she murmured even though she was very aware of her dark circles and the hours she lay awake at night. She wouldn't tell Ray that, but it's something that he could easily figure out with just his eyes.

"Is it," he paused and swallowed, "is it about Oliver?"

She had been so surprised when she had told Ray that their relationship could never expand to anything beyond professionalism because she was in love with someone else. He had reacted surprisingly well, had been very understanding. But then again, he knew what is was like to lose someone who was quite possibly the love of your life—your ultimate love story that would make all other loves dull in comparison. And Ray had guessed it was Oliver she was speaking of all too easily.

Ray's affection toward her and the affection she held for him was a diluted emotion compared to the swell of adoration and desire that swept through her when she thought of Oliver. Even now.

She swallowed thickly, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Which means, you probably should talk about it. With someone."

She pressed her fingers to her temples, "Ray, really, no offense—but I don't want to talk about Oliver with you."

"Fair enough," Ray said with a blank expression and a nod before turning back to his work, leaving Felicity to feel guilty for reacting so harshly. But it had been the truth, she didn't want to talk to Ray about Oliver, in some irrational, perverse way it felt like a betrayal to Oliver. She didn't want to share herself with Ray, when she would never again be able to share any part of her life with Oliver.

She pressed her palms flat against the desk and took a deep breath, pushing the tears down, swallowing against the lump in her throat. After several moments, she lowered herself into her chair and set back to work, keeping thoughts of Oliver far from her mind.

* * *

The last person Felicity expected to walk into her office that afternoon was Thea Queen.

Oliver's sister waited in the doorway patiently as Felicity's assistant announced the young woman's presence. Felicity glanced up and froze upon seeing Thea truly standing there.

"Felicity?" Thea asked, her voice hesitant, her hazel eyes studying.

Felicity cleared her throat and stood up from her desk, "Thea, hi."

"Hi, I know this is," her eyes moved about the room as she searched for a word, "really random, but I didn't know who else to ask."

"Ask what?" Felicity asked as dread flooded her stomach. She knew what Thea was here to ask about.

"I know you're friends with Ollie, or at least you worked with him for a long time, enough time to get to know him." Thea paused to await confirmation from Felicity.

"Oliver and I are friends," she forced herself to use the present tense, referring to her relationship with Oliver in the past tense would only alert Thea to the problems she probably already suspected to exist.

"I thought so. Well, I-I haven't heard from him in over a week, and that's really not like him. He usually keeps tabs on me, and calls, a lot." Thea's eyes locked with Felicity's, filled with earnest worry and curiosity, "I was wondering if maybe you know where he is?"

The world seemed to darken around Felicity until it just left this small room built from windows, where she stood across from Thea. She had two choices in front of her. She could lie, like she had been doing easily for months now. She had understood that joining Oliver's crusade would cost her honesty, that she would be forced to lie in order to protect Oliver's secret, and consequently her own.

But now, Oliver was gone. She wasn't held to that secret any longer.

Her other choice was to tell Thea the truth. Tell her that her brother was dead.

But Thea had been fed that line so many times it probably didn't mean a thing to her anymore. Or, it could destroy her if she watched Felicity's face when she spoke the words. If Felicity told the truth, she knew it would come across as an irrefutable fact. Oliver would be dead, to both of them.

Felicity swallowed and then shook her head slowly, "no, Thea. I'm sorry, I haven't-" She stopped and shook her head more forcefully, "no, I—I don't know where Oliver is right now Thea. I also don't know when he will be back. And I can't tell you where he's gone, or what he's doing because he has asked me on multiple occasions to keep certain aspects of his life from you." Felicity released a long breath, "I hope you can understand." She lifted her eyes to the younger woman, not sure what kind of reactions she should expect.

Thea's head inclined as she stared at Felicity, "I know Oliver has been keeping things from me. Big things. I know whatever happened to him on that island and after are things he doesn't want me to know about. He thinks he's protecting me from the atrocities of the world, but he doesn't realize I've already seen a lot of horrors this world has to offer. Whatever happened to him wouldn't ruin me, and it wouldn't ruin him for me."

"Your brother is stubborn. He thinks he's right, always."

"I know." Thea sighed, raking her fingers through her short hair, "I once told Ollie, that he should tell his secrets to somebody," Thea paused, her eyes glancing up at Felicity, "I thought eventually he would tell _me_ those secrets, and then I thought he refused to share anything with anyone," she paused once again as Felicity's eyes met hers, "but now I know, he shared those things with you."

"Thea," Felicity sighed, brows pulling upward apologetically as she stepped around her desk to approach the younger woman.

"No, Felicity, I'm glad he shared them with somebody," Thea smiled sadly, "and not just somebody, but you—someone who loves him."

Felicity's breath stuttered out of her lungs as the grief struck her again, the longing to have Oliver back with her wrapped around her heavily, suffocating her.

"_You're not going to lose me." _He'd told her that once, not knowing how wrong he would be just less than a year down the road.

Felicity closed her eyes and swallowed past her sorrow, "I do love your brother."

It was the first time she had said those words out loud to anyone, even to herself.

When she opened her eyes, Thea was staring at her with a sympathetic gaze. "My brother's not coming home is he?"

A tear trailed from the corner of Felicity's eye and down the curve of her cheek, "I don't think so, Thea. I'm sorry."

"Me too."

* * *

The blood test results are what truly do her in.

She'd already come to terms with the idea of Oliver being dead. But it was no longer an idea, it was a fact now. The blood on the sword Merlyn had brought them was almost an exact match to Oliver's—it was Oliver's blood.

Now she knew he was gone. She had lost him.

She was losing _everything_.

When Diggle left the foundry that night she knew it was the last time she would see him down there in a long while. He needed to be with his family. This team wasn't the same without Oliver. This mission didn't have much of an objective without it's founder. No matter how hard Felicity tried to pull them together, she failed.

Felicity didn't know if she could go back to the foundry either, didn't know if she could continue this even if Roy and Laurel would be willing to.

They could manage on their own if they really wanted to. They didn't need her, not like Oliver needed her.

She breathed out heavily through her nose as the shower continued its heavy spray down onto her face and shoulders.

Every night, when she returned home, she washed away the evidence of her day, she rinsed away her flaked mask and let herself truly feel the despair that she kept at bay during the daylight hours.

Curled up on the floor of her shower as the steaming spray rained down on her in near-boiling pin-pricks she enjoyed the unholy baptism as she spiraled, as she peeled back her layers and exposed herself.

Her make up streaked into her eyes, making them sting, but she didn't wipe it away, just squeezed her eyes shut tightly and didn't open them again.

She stayed in her shower as the tears flowed freely—a whole day's worth of tears that she had been denying. She remained in her shower even after the water turned freezing cold and she began to shiver from the decreased temperature.

Eventually, she would reach out for the handle and turn the shower off. Then she would raise slowly from her curled up position and step out of the shower. She would reach for her towel and wrap it around herself and dry her skin with the scratchy material until it was raw.

But until then, she sat and wallowed and despaired and let herself truly feel the loss of Oliver.

She loved him.

All day she could be strong for everyone else, she could put on the brave face. She could spend hours perfecting her mask and keeping it on straight.

But here, she could be weak. She could be honest, she could truly express how she felt.

She could be depressed, she could be despaired, she could be alone.

"I love him."

She could be in love and mourning.

* * *

_Mayday_

_Somebody save me now_

_I'm cutting old ties from the world outside _

_Cause it's over my head _

_It's all coming undone _

_And falling apart somehow _

_And I'm closing my eyes cause once the sun rises _

_It's out of my hands_

_Oh, it's out of my hands_

* * *

_Review? xo_


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